It felt like returning to the scene of a crime. The leader had not been back to this part of the forest since the first day that he and Vanadis had met, and he had never thought he would be back here again. He wasn’t even sure why had come here now. Something about the light rain following the freak snowstorm a few days ago had put a worm in his brain that he couldn’t get rid of and eventually gave in to.
Besides it gave him something to do other than pace around and try to avoid packmates out of fear of taking their heads off. He didn’t want to be angry anymore, but he could not help it. It was like his blood was just below boiling point in his veins and even the smallest frustration pushed it over the edge. He was surly, and snarly, and generally preferred being alone. He didn’t want to hurt the ones he loved but couldn’t seem to stop himself from doing it either.
Viorel stared down into the sinkhole, just like he had done years earlier. Only this time he was alone and the love of his life wasn’t going to come and save him from himself. Lip curled, ”Fuck you Vanadis.” It was a quiet sentiment, but the way the words echoed back to him was satisfying.